Serpentine Desires
Or at the very least, something to cover my sore, probably red, undoubtedly bruised dignity.
Working in this mansion had its perks, though—like knowing exactly where Judas kept his closet. Without wasting any more time, I made a beeline for it. If he had the audacity to strip me down, I’d have no worries about borrowing his clothes.
Rifling through his neatly arranged wardrobe, I found a pair of his sweatpants. They were ridiculously large, but they’d have to do. I folded the waistband and tightened the drawstrings, but even then, they still hung low on my hips, almost slipping. Not wanting to trip over myself, I folded the hems of the ankles and did my best to make them look halfway decent.